Ever the Same
by infinitely fine
Summary: Rachel Berry has finally made it to New York, but the experience so far has been nothing short of lonely. Luckily for her, all it takes to change that is a mysterious, charming blonde who sort of sweeps her off her feet. AU Faberry.
1. Chapter 1

**SPOILER ALERT: I sorta, kinda ruin the ending of the movie 'Black Swan' in this chapter. Just a friendly warning.**

* * *

><p>"Hi."<p>

Rachel Berry looked up from her paper. She was so involved with her work that she had forgotten she wasn't in the comfort of her apartment.

It was a small café in the lower east side of Manhattan. She had walked by it every single day since arriving in the city that never sleeps. It was on her way to and from school, but she never once stepped inside. Today, however, she felt the need to. She had been beating herself up for not enjoying New York city, so instead of going straight home after school, she took a little walk around the neighborhood. It was fun, she thought. But she also couldn't stop thinking how it was possible to be so lonely in a city full of so many people.

It was six o'clock, and Rachel was still fighting the urge to head home. She decided to stop by the familiar café to begin working on her project. She thought maybe the change of scenery could give her some inspiration. It was better than just sitting on the couch, cuddled up with her dog.

"Are you… here by yourself?"

Rachel was chewing on her pen when she looked up at the blonde, and it just hung from her mouth as she stared now. She was trying to figure out if she had seen her somewhere before. She was certainly beautiful enough to be an actress, or maybe even a singer. She had to be famous. No one with that kind of face was just a normal person. Her bone structure was nearly perfect, from what Rachel had read up on anatomy. Was it weird that was her first thought? Rachel wasn't sure.

She realized she hadn't responded, and couldn't bring herself to _actually _say words, so she just nodded.

"May I?" The blonde asked, putting her hand on the chair opposite Rachel.

"Take the chair?" Rachel asked, confused.

The blonde chuckled, lightly. "No. Sit here. May I sit here?"

"Oh." Rachel couldn't help but frown a bit. Did someone put her up to this? Was she trying to sell her something? What could she possibly want? "Er, a-are you sure?"

The blonde laughed again. It was soft, like her voice. Rachel was used to being around loud obnoxious theatre kids that were hopped up on coffee and one too many red bulls. The blonde girl's presence was oddly soothing.

"I should be asking you that." Her eyes studied Rachel for a moment. "So? May I?"

"Um, yes. Yes, of course you can sit." Rachel gave a small smile and sat up. She had been in New York for a total of eight months and sixteen days. She hadn't made one friend. Not at NYADA, or on the many auditions she went on; no one ever came up to talk to her, except for this girl, whoever she was.

"You seemed busy; I hope I'm not interrupting."

Rachel pushed her work aside. "No, no, not at all. I needed a break, actually."

"Well, how convenient." She smiled. Rachel noticed how bright her teeth were. So the girl was absolutely stunning and had perfect teeth as well. She had to be famous. Was she on TV? Maybe even YouTube? She _had_ to be _someone._

"Do you come here often?" She asked.

Rachel shook her head. "No. I needed a place to work, and its quiet enough in here. I didn't want to go home just yet. Do you? Come here often, I mean."

"I come here to read, mostly." She showed Rachel her book, and slowly smiled up at her. "And… meet new people, occasionally."

"So, you make a habit of talking to strangers?"

Rachel regretted saying that. That was a stupid thing to say. Who says that? No wonder she hadn't made any friends. She was losing her ability to talk to people without sounded awkward. She _really_ needed to do something about that.

The blonde cocked her head to the side. "Strangers?" She asked, still smiling, warmly. "No, no, no. I don't talk to strangers."

"But we don't-"

"I'm Quinn. Quinn Fabray. And you are?"

"Er, Rachel. I'm Rachel Berry."

"Wonderful to meet you, Rachel." Quinn extended her hand for a handshake. "See? We're not strangers."

Rachel smiled and accepted.

"There we go. You're smiling." Quinn put her book down on her lap, and folded her hands on the table. "You looked awfully stressed out, and in need of a friend; I just thought I'd offer."

"That's- that's very kind of you, Quinn."

"I know what you're thinking, 'who's this crazy blonde girl that just ups and talks to me while I'm obviously working on my final for drama class'," Quinn said. "But I just saw you from across the room, and… well, you look a lot like I did when I first came here; stressed out beyond belief, and a bit lonely. I wished someone would have talked to me then, I figured maybe you feel the same way."

"No, I wasn't thinking- I don't think you're crazy…. I'm… glad you decided to talk to me."

"You and me both." Quinn said. "So, aside from the fact that you're recently moved here, and you take drama classes, tell me about yourself."

Rachel was puzzled, and if she was going to be honest, she was _definitely_ starting to feel a little uneasy. "How... do you know that?"

"You would be here with friends if you've lived here for more than a year, especially if you're studying drama. Theatre kids always pack together." Quinn glanced at Rachel's homework. "And I know you study drama because I took a peek at your notes when I went to get my coffee earlier… sorry about that, actually. That's kinda creepy, now that I think about it." Quinn chuckled a bit. "Well, _that_, but really what gave it away was the fact that you have about seven playbills sticking out of your purse, one of which I noticed is 'Wicked', and I have to say, amazing play."

"Incredibly so." Rachel beamed. "I'd watch it every night if I had the money."

"As would I."

Rachel settled into her chair. This Quinn girl wasn't so bad. She had heard stories of people in New York; rude, offensive, stand-offish, but Quinn seemed the opposite of all those things. She was friendly, inviting even. Not to mention she watched Broadways shows! Rachel couldn't be more excited. It was a potential friendship. She couldn't screw it up.

"Well, you're very astute." Rachel said.

"You have to be when you live here. So, go on. Tell me more about yourself."

"Well, I moved up here from Ohio." Rachel said, slowly. She didn't want to sound boring, but the truth of the matter was that she was. She hadn't done anything worth mentioning since winning Nationals her senior year of high school, and not even that was particularly impressive in this city.

"Oh? What part?"

"Just a little town in the middle of nowhere, really." Rachel said. She didn't want to talk about Lima. She was in New York City! That God-forsaken place shouldn't even be thought about. "I've always wanted to star on Broadway…" She quickly changed the subject. "ever since I was a little girl, and here I am. I, uh, I have a dog. A small one. He's very cute, if I say so myself. I've named him William Wyler."

"Ah," Quinn nodded, smiling. "Named after the director, I'm guessing?"

"Y-you know his work?"

"How could I not? 'Ben-Hur' 'Hell's Heroes', Dodsworth', 'Wuthering Heights', 'Roman Holiday' and of course, 'Funny Girl'. The man was one of the best directors of his time."

"Yes! It's just that n-not a lot of people I talk to know about him."

"Are you _sure_ you go to a drama school?"

Rachel laughed. That was her exact thought when no one seemed to know who William Wyler was when she brought it up in class.

"Well? Is that all? Surely, there's more about you. What do you do for fun?" Quinn leaned on the table.

"Fun? I-I'm constantly busy. Always going to auditions, and school takes up most of my time-"

"Rachel Berry, are you telling me you don't go out on the town? Enjoy the clubs, the sights the sounds of New York City? Shame on you."

Rachel chuckled. "I really don't have time-"

"Nonsense! You live in New York! There's always time."

"Well, I suppose I could do something, but…" The truth was that Rachel never had anyone to really push her to do anything. She knew if Kurt was around, he'd always be inviting her out for dinners and clubs. She was never really particularly outgoing by herself. "Alone?"

"It's how you meet people." Quinn shrugged. "Of course, if we were friends we could make plans, but you know, we're strangers and all."

Rachel was smiling again. It was the most she had smiled all week, now that she thought about it. Hell, if she was going to be honest, it was the most she had smiled all month. This girl was infinitely charming. She had to be some kind of celebrity.

"Perhaps we should exchange numbers." Rachel suggested.

"Well, what a splendid idea." Quinn nodded, already taking out her phone. "Here you go."

Rachel handed her phone over as well. She noticed the time while punching in her digits and saving it as 'Rachel Berry'. It was pretty late, and she was sure she didn't leave little Wyler enough food in his bowl.

"Well, this was… nice." Rachel said.

Quinn nodded and returned her phone.

"I have to be going though. I have to finish this…" Rachel grabbed her papers and stuffed them in her purse. "And I don't know what I'm doing for dinner, and poor Willy is home alone." She stood up. "Not to mention 'House' is on tonight, and I forgot to set my DVR." Rachel paused, lost in thought. "Actually, I don't believe I've even hooked up my cable… I really need to get around to that. It's been almost eight months, and I haven't unpacked all my boxes, can you believe that? And there's really no excuse for it, considering I spend ninety-five percent of my time in my apartment…"

Quinn just sat there, looking up at her with an expression Rachel couldn't read.

"W-what?"

"Nothing." Quinn smiled again. "You… do that a lot, don't you? Ramble?"

"Oh! Um, yes. Force of habit. But I assure you, not all the time, and-and certainly not on the phone. Only in person. And it's worse if I'm nervous or… passionate on the subject at hand. But mostly when I'm in situations that I don't know how to handle, but honestly, it's not very often. I know talking too much is something a lot of people find extremely irritating."

"I'm not complaining."

"You're… not? Everyone else does."

"I'm not everyone else." Quinn stood up. "So, I'll text you later? And don't worry, I won't do it during 'House'. I know how annoying that is."

"It wouldn't be. Honestly. I end up watching every episode of 'House' at least five more times because of the repeats."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You can text me whenever you like."

_Well, Rachel, so much for not sounding desperate._

Quinn's phone made a 'bing!' sound, which reminded Rachel she hadn't given it back to her. "Oh. Sorry."

"No problem." Quinn took her phone and looked at it. "Oh Christ. I completely forgot."

"Is… is something wrong?"

"Yes and no. I'll let you know later." Quinn took a few steps back. "Look, it was great meeting you. I'll text you when I have the chance. I have to run."

"Oh, yes, of course. I… I'll talk to you later?"

Quinn nodded with a smile and ran for the exit.

Rachel finally took a deep breath, and decided the conversation was a complete success and would have done a little dance if there weren't so many people around.

* * *

><p>Rachel was engrossed in the new episode of 'House'. No matter how many times they did they old 'the patient is fine so we can send them home now, but oh look they're vomiting blood, our diagnosis was wrong' routine, it never failed to surprise her. She tried to remember the names of the diseases, so in case she ever found herself in a similar situation she could know exactly what was wrong with her. She had a little book she used to write them down in, but somehow, it got lost during the move.<p>

William Wyler was falling fast asleep on her lap. His eyes drooped and would shoot wide open again, startled, whenever Rachel reached for her baked chips on the table.

She still hadn't finished her first draft for her final paper. She had only a page or so more to go. Once she was done writing it up, she had to find a library to start typing it. She still hadn't unpacked her laptop and her printer, and she was never really good with setting up electronics, so she knew it she couldn't do that without calling in the Geek-Squad. She had struggled for two hours to just plug some wires in to set up her cable earlier.

The paper was due in two days. That was plenty of time… right?

Her phone buzzed, and for a moment, she wondered if it was some kind of emergency. Her dads said they would give her space. They said they didn't want to be the annoying parents that called every week to see how things were going. Now that she was here, she sort of wished they did.

She reached over for her phone, prompting little Willy to jump off of her.

"Sorry." She muttered.

He settled down on the cushion beside her, a semi-annoyed expression on his face. Rachel had never seen a dog who was so _human _before.

She looked at the phone and it read: _One new text from: A Stranger ;)_

Rachel smiled. Is that what Quinn had put herself under on her phone? Ever the charmer, she thought.

She opened up the message: '_half the time I wonder if House was a real doctor, would he have gotten fired by like, the first season, no matter how many lives he saved? Because honestly the man is crazy. He just stabbed that guy in the heart. What doctor goes around stabbing people in the heart? Hearts are important organs, you know.'_

So she was watching it, too? Rachel sat up. The last time she could remember texting someone was Finn, and that wasn't exactly a fond memory considering it was how he broke up with her. He didn't even spell entire words, it was just: _im braking up wit u. _She still had it saved on her phone.

No apostrophe, he spelled 'breaking' wrong, and didn't bother to type an extra three more letters. She knew he wasn't the smartest of guys, but even Puck would be a little more chivalrous than that.

Rachel realized it had been a total of three minutes since she got the text. Was that too long? Had she been taking too long and Quinn thought she was writing out a long message? Or does Quinn think she's busy now and has put her phone down to do something else?

"What if I've missed my opportunity?" She asked, looking down at her dog.

Willy looked up at her.

"Oh no, she must think I'm ignoring her. Quick! Willy, what should I write? Something funny? Witty, maybe? Or just a simple reply? Like…"

Willy hopped off the couch.

"Don't you dare leave me here!"

But like always William Wyler didn't seem to care, and continued on until he disappeared into the bedroom. Or maybe it was because he knew how manic his owner was and wanted to steer clear of the coming disaster. Rachel wouldn't put it past him. He acted like he didn't know what was going on, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

He was the worst.

"No Beggin Strips for you!" She called after him. "I'm going to put you on a diet, William. No more meat. How do you like _that_? Hm!"

It had been a total of five minutes now. Five whole minutes. Rachel had to reply fast before everything fell apart.

_IKR._

No, Rachel thought, just NO. Not only does that phrase make no sense; _I know, right?_ Asking someone if they can confirm that you know something; it's ridiculous. Also, the fact that she didn't type out any actual words was extremely disconcerting. She erased it. What was she thinking?

Or maybe that was the problem. She was thinking too much about it. She had just met the girl, had polite conversation at the coffee place, and exchanged numbers; that was it. It wasn't like Rachel had met some _guy_ and they were flirting or anything. That would require some kind of pre-dating etiquette; playing hard to get and all that. This wasn't that. This was simple. She was thinking too much about it.

Quinn Fabray, no matter how slightly charismatic, and, quite honestly, breathtakingly beautiful she was; was just a person. Just like Rachel Berry. Get it together, Rachel. This isn't a big deal.

_He only stabbed him in the heart TO save his life. He would've died, otherwise.  
>I imagine everything is going well with you? You seemed kind of worried earlier. Did everything turn out okay?<em>

Rachel sent it because she knew if she didn't she would've worried about sending the wrong thing and changed the message over and over again and it already had been eight minutes and oh my God she had taken too long to send it and now Quinn was probably talking to the hundreds of other friends she had that were probably movie stars or models or just people generally as attractive as her- wait what?

Stop thinking about how attractive she is, she thought. It's getting creepy.

She looked down at the sent text; _I imagine everything is going well with you?_ Imagine?

That implies that you've been imagining things about her, Rachel, what is _wrong_ with you? No, she quickly shook her head. No, it's just a figure of speech. Quinn will get that. Right?

Rachel threw herself on her couch, burying her face in the pillow. Always the drama queen. She was going to scream, but remembered that her vocals chords are extremely important and that she had an audition tomorrow night. She settled for a dramatic sigh, but lifted her head up when she heard the familiar soft pitter-patter of footsteps.

Willy waltzed back into the living room, dragging along the very first chew toy Rachel had gotten him; a giant rubber goldfish. She remembered how it was too big for him to fit in his mouth and he would just drag it along with his paw. Those were the days, when he was cute and nice and fluffy.

He was still fluffy, but all that other stuff went away.

He lied down in front of the TV, snuggling close to it.

"Oh, so you've come back? Well, I'm still not giving you a treat today for abandoning me in my time of need. And I'm keeping to the diet thing. This is all your fault, William. If you would've just told me what to say…." She sighed again. "I've ruined everything…"

Rachel rolled onto her side, and stared at the TV. She wasn't watching it, she was just staring. Tune in to tune out, as they say.

No, this was _no_ time for moping, she shook her head. Time for a 'Rachel Berry inner monologue pep-talk'. She sat up, and straightened out her pajama pants. Willy looked up at her.

Get yourself together, Rachel Barbra Berry. Not having friends, or generally another human being to talk to for almost a year has taken too much of a toll on you. You're going to start over. You're going to start over, and have an incredible amount of confidence. You've been pathetic. Yes, that's right, absolutely pathetic. You're going to be the star you've always dreamed of and you're going to have tons of friends- _famous, attractive_ friends who all fawn over you and Quinn Fabray is going to _wish_ she had texted you back when you star in your first-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the little jingle her phone made when she received a text. It sounded silly, really, and she had been meaning to change that, but she completely forgot about it.

_Still, the dude is crazy. I don't know if I'd want him as a doctor. If he stabbed me in the heart to save my life, I'd be conflicted as to sue him or thank him.  
>And, yeah, thanks for asking. Just a little misunderstanding. I'm in the process of moving to a new place.<em>

"She texted me back!"

Willy plopped his head back onto the chew toy. Rachel was sure that was his way of rolling his eyes.

"Oh, what do you know? You're just a_ dog._"

Okay, be cool, Rachel. Simple. Keep it simple.

_That's completely true.  
>And you're moving? That's great. Where to?<em>

Again, she sent it as soon as possible, and then proceeded to fling her phone across the couch to prevent herself from reading it over. She turned her attention back to the TV. She was just going to calmly watch the rest of House.

Of course, when the phone 'dinged' again, she jumped for it.

_Downtown. I used to live in the Upper East Side, but it's just getting so expensive, you know? Anyway, I found a pretty rad apartment. Doesn't cost that much, and it's not a dump, so I'm not complaining._

First of all, 'rad'? Did people still say that? Rachel found it oddly endearing. Secondly, Rachel wanted to ask where downtown, but wasn't sure if that was asking too much. If Quinn was anything like herself, which of course, she wasn't because she was really pretty and charming and just overall more interesting-okay stop with the compliments; she was just growing tired of how anyone could know where you live and where you go to school through the internet nowadays. FaceBook gave everything away. The highest sign of hospitality was no longer a surprise visit from a friend, but instead relied on a 'like' on your status. There wasn't any sense of intimacy anymore. Everyone was an open book with one Google search of their name. There wasn't any sense of mystery… or romance, for that matter. No one wrote letters, and there was never any chance meetings of fate where two people got swept up in a storm of love, and then separated and found each other years later and then get married and have babies; like, seriously, where was the _romance_ these days? Where was the _adventure_?

Oh, right she was texting. Get your head out of the clouds, Rachel.

_That's wonderful! I happen to like Downtown more so than Uptown. Although Uptown is known for its glamour, Downtown has a lot of hidden gems; it's sort of like a treasure hunt._

Did she really just say that? That sounded like something she shouldn't have said, like, what? Is she teaching Quinn Fabray the ways of New York, when, no doubt, Quinn had probably been there longer than herself? And it just sounded childish. Treasure hunt? Really, Rachel Berry. You have an amazingly diverse vocabulary and you liken finding stores and restaurants to some kind of child's game.

_I agree wholeheartedly. So, are you busy tomorrow? After I get my stuff settled in, I thought maybe we could hang out._

Rachel almost jumped up, excitedly. She agrees? Well, of course, she does. It was an apt analogy. So she hadn't scared her off yet. This was going ten times better than her earlier attempts at friendships when she first got here.

Those mostly consisted of awkwardly, and very quietly going up to people and making small conversation that the other person was obviously not interested in.

_Okay!_ Actually, no. No exclamation point. Seriously, Rachel, stop sounding like an excited little girl. How about…

_Of course. Just tell me when and where._

Yes, that was good. Was it too simple? No, no, that was good.

Taken out of context, however, it sounded like she was going to help her move a dead body, which is the sign of ultimate friendship in her opinion.

_I was thinking 6 AV on the L stop? I'll be there at 12, so whenever you get out of school. I'd like to take you somewhere. It's really cool. It's in Williamsburg._

Well, crap. Going to Brooklyn, and the commute back always added up to twenty minutes, and that was only if you just rode the train back and forth. They'd probably be spending time in Williamsburg, and strolling around and all that, so she could bump it up to a total of four to five hours. Which meant it would be around rush-hour when they would be getting back, which added a good fifteen to thirty extra minutes, so, for good measure, she could say it would be six hours. Luckily, she got out of class at twelve tomorrow, which, would normally mean she had plenty of time, but… her audition. It started at seven.

There wasn't exactly a lot of time.

Unless of course, she went straight from hanging out with Quinn to the audition; she could wear what she was planning to for the audition to school, and then rehearse a bit while in Williamsburg.

But she didn't exactly want to risk it.

"Wait a minute…" Rachel said, prompting Willy to look up at her. "That's it! That's it, that's it, that's it!"

She had been playing it safe for the duration of her time here. Was New York the place to stay glued to the sidewalk? No! She should be in the street, dodging cars and dancing. Not literally, of course, just figuratively speaking. She would always head home, do her lines over, warm up her voice, and then head to the audition. She aimed for perfection, but some other girl who came in late and forgot a third of her lines ended up getting the part, and why? Because all those other girls were _experiencing _things. Staying up late, meeting people; just walking around in New York was enough to get someone riled up, but Rachel had spent all her time pent up in her apartment.

If she had learned anything from the movie, 'Black Swan', it was that:

1. ballerinas could be _completely mental,_ like batshit-insane-crazy

and

2. not everything was about perfection.

Because if it was, it would end with her performing with a glass shard stuck in her abdomen and bleeding out before the curtain closed.

_I'll be there around 12:30._ She typed in, quickly. She was sure she could get out of class early since their last period was Mr. Kahler, and he never showed up for last period classes, but always left down the notes on the board. She would just have to copy them down, and she was free to go.

She noticed the time, it was nearing ten. Normally, she would have been in bed already, but…

_Where is this place you want to show me, anyways?_

* * *

><p>Rachel woke up, snugly tucked under her covers. It was winter, and the holidays were around the corner, and because of the crappy apartment she lived in, naturally, there was no heat. Willy was sat at her feet, wagging his tail, no doubt waiting for her to pour some food in his bowl.<p>

She rolled on her side to see her phone in her hands. Once she unlocked it; _You fell asleep, didn't you? Haha. Knew you would cave first. You owe me five bucks._

Rachel rolled back onto her back, with a smile on her face. How long had they been texting? She couldn't remember.

She remembered texting throughout House, and then right through the news and the late night TV shows. She remembered lying down on her bed. She remembered texting Quinn about Batman, but she couldn't remember _how_ they got up to that topic.

Willy nudged her.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm up." She grumbled.

She climbed out of bed, and slowly made her way to the kitchen. The clock on her microwave said 6:26 AM. So she was a little late. She could skip exercising for today, and just get ready.

She poured Willy's food, and once the little scamp heard the sound of it, he came rushing in.

"It's rude to start eating when I haven't even finished serving you, Willy."

The dog, true to his nature, didn't seem like he cared and kept on munching away.

"Now, listen here, Willy. I'm going to be gone for most of the day, so please, use your Wee-Wee pad, and do not, you hear me, _do not_, pee on anything other than that. Not the wall next to it, not the floor next to it, and definitely not under the table; _directly onto_ the Wee-Wee pad, understand?"

Willy, at least, stopped eating to look up at her.

"Also, I'm going to leave food in your bowl, and it's enough for the rest of the day, so don't just eat it all in one sitting, because not only will you probably get sick and throw up on the new carpet I got; _by the way_, have you seen it, Willy? Do you like it? It matches the curtains and the couch. Anyways, not only will you get sick, but then you won't have anything else to eat today."

It seemed like he was listening, so she continued.

"I may be out until, maybe, nine to ten, and maybe even later, so don't set anything on fire while I'm gone, okay? Be a good boy." She patted him on his head.

Willy watched her disappear into the bathroom before he resumed his breakfast.

* * *

><p>So far, so good, Rachel thought. Everything had been going as planned, and Mr. Kahler <em>did<em> show up for class, but let everyone go regardless because it was a Friday. He said something about how he had had a life and had better things to do than hang around a bunch of theatre nerds.

Gotta love that man.

She didn't even know it was a Friday, to be honest. She just went day by knowing what would happen the next day. Dates and days didn't seem to matter, just what happened did. She needed to stop planning things out so thoroughly and just enjoy things as they come. This was a new beginning for Rachel Barbra Berry. She was going to be on top of the world.

If only she could cross this damn street.

The drivers in New York were probably worse than the people who pushed on the sidewalk. They were even _worse_ than the _tourists._ Or maybe they were equal. She hadn't decided who she hated more as of yet.

Yet another taxi honked as she narrowly escaped death for the sixteenth time today when she reached the other side of the street. She had to remember to ask her dads for a little more money for next month, just so she could take a cab or something, instead of having to walk.

Rachel descended the subway steps of the 'L' train heading towards Brooklyn. She rarely ever went there. Only once, when she first arrived to have dinner with Kurt. Kurt lived in Williamsburg, actually, though he didn't spend a lot of time there.

He was still in a relationship with Blaine, even with him back in Lima, still, the last she checked, and he was doing well. She hadn't heard from him since.

Rachel was done having to work to be in people's lives. That wasn't how friendship works. If other people want you, they'll come find you.

The joke was on her, though, when no one seemed to want her.

But that was behind her now. She was beginning anew. Things were looking up, and she had a certain blonde to thank for that.

Rachel wonders if people realize that they have the potential to just make someone's day. Maybe to them, a 'hello' or a smile doesn't mean anything, but to someone else it can mean the world. Maybe Quinn didn't know that she was already #1 on her 'People to buy a gift for on Christmas' list. I mean why would she. After all, Rachel really shouldn't feel so happy about someone she knew nothing about, but everything just seemed to click. It wasn't like her, but somehow it felt natural.

Maybe that was how it supposed to be, she thought.

_Where are you?_ Rachel sent. She'd been on her tip-toes searching the faces of the crowd for a good while now, but couldn't find Quinn.

_You're really short, aren't you?_

_Well, that's not nice._ Rachel frowned. _It's not my fault._

_Haha. I'm behind you._

And sure enough, Quinn was sitting atop the rails the construction men put up when they were working on something.

"Those things aren't sturdy." Rachel said, shrugging her purse on.

"I'll take my chances." Quinn said. "So, you all ready?"

Rachel nodded.

"You ever been to Williamsburg?"

"Once or twice."

"Been to Bedford?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, that's where we're going. You'll like it, I think."

"I apologize for falling asleep last night in the middle of our conversation."

Quinn smiled. "Oh yeah. About my five bucks…"

"I don't recall making any sort of bet."

"I have the text right here." Quinn said, jumping off the rail. "How about we just call it even if you buy me a shirt at the place we're going?"

"A shirt? Won't that be more than five dollars?"

"Actually, shirts there costs a dollar, at most."

"A thrift store?"

"Precisely."

"You aren't taking to me to some sort of hipster haven, are you?"

Quinn laughed. "Well, it _is_ Williamsburg, Rach."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Nobody kill me for not updating '_WMYGIA_', just had to get this out of my head. Updates all around coming soon, though!**


	2. Chapter 2

Music had always been a saving grace for Quinn Fabray, more so than she was willing to admit. She had always done her best to keep herself distant, often detaching herself from people and even the world around her.

Music had been the only thing to get close. It was the only way she could connect to people, the only way she could relate.

Rachel knew this, because Quinn had told her.

Rachel could tell Quinn wasn't one for sharing things about herself. It seemed to be the only thing that made her uncomfortable. Anytime Rachel would ask a question about something personal- where she was from, if she was in college- _anything_ pertaining to her past or present, Quinn would deflect. She'd make a joke, or change the subject.

"Do you not like talking about yourself?" Rachel asked, skipping to keep up with her.

Bedford Avenue was a busy place. People were on bikes, and everyone seemed to travel in packs. Most of the restaurants had outdoor seating, and even if it didn't, people would hang around in front of the stores and diners anyway. There was really no room for people to get by on the sidewalk, so much so, that people began to pour into the streets. Not many cars drove by, as bikes and skateboards were the preferred method of transportation, so it wasn't much of a problem.

"It's not that." Quinn sighed. "It's just- I'm not that interesting. That's all." She turned to face her.

"I'll be the judge of that." Rachel smiled.

Quinn didn't look like she appreciated the joke.

"If you don't feel comfortable talking about yourself, it's completely fine." Rachel assured her. "Not everyone likes to be an open book, and that's quite understandable."

"No, no, it's not that." Quinn smoothly passed between a large group of people waiting for their pizza at a 'Pizza-to-Go' shop, and this couple who had a stand set up and were selling their artwork. The further down the avenue they went, the more packed it got.

"It's just that, you're dodging my questions like bullets- and it's," Rachel didn't have the same luck as Quinn, as she narrowly squeeze passed the two groups, while muttering 'excuse me's' and 'sorry's'. "it's just disconcerting. If you could just make me understand- _oof!"_ She found herself stuck between two people. "Excuse me!"

They turned and looked at down at her as if she had two heads. She shrugged them off and finally caught up with Quinn, who glanced back at her and flashed a grin.

"Geez, do you need me to hold your hand?"

"There you go again, warding off my questions with sarcasm."

Quinn slowed down her pace, so Rachel could catch up. Beside them, a man had a dog that was performing tricks for the crowd. If only Willy would listen, Rachel could have him do something like that to make some extra cash on the side. Everyone loves a cute dog, right?

"Look, I don't know how."

Rachel directed her attention back at Quinn. "Huh?"

"I don't," Quinn lowered her voice a little. "know how to… share things. It's always been a problem- growing up and everything. I went to therapy for it once."

"Therapy?"

Quinn shook her head. "Wow, I am _not_ making a good first impression here."

"Therapy is an excellent alternative to what most young people do when they feel out of place. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Well, it didn't work. It helped me find an outlet," Quinn sighed. "Music, but- but it didn't work in the long run."

"So, is it because… you're afraid?"

"Afraid?" Quinn snapped around. "No. I'm not _afraid_. I'll have you know I'm _excellent_ with people."

"Maybe that's true, but you don't like any of them, do you? Enough to tell them about yourself?"

Quinn stopped walking.

Rachel blinked, rapidly."What is it?"

"I don't _know_." Quinn said, frustrated. "Can we just have a nice time before you decide I'm crazy and we never speak to each other again?"

"I would never-" Rachel was offended now. "Quinn, I only asked you because I felt comfortable enough to tell you about myself, and I was curious as to why you didn't. I thought maybe it had to do with the way I was asking, perhaps, I was making you uncomfortable- I've never really been that good at knowing when I'm making people uncomfortable. I'm known to be quite abrasive."

"You're not making me uncomfortable, it's just… weird, I guess. I don't normally tell people I've been to therapy right off the bat. Some of my friends don't even know that yet."

"So… you do feel comfortable around me?"

"I just told you that I went to therapy, didn't I? It's not something I go shouting from the rooftops."

"Well, Quinn, I appreciate that you trust me enough to tell me. Thank you."

"Yeah, sure." Quinn shrugged. "Now, let's go inside one of these places, already. All this pushing past people is getting on my nerves, not to mention you keep disappearing."

"Is that another quip at my height? I'll have you know I'm not _that_ short!"

* * *

><p>It was close to three o' clock when they found themselves in a little record shop in the middle of the avenue.<p>

Rachel had been having a blast, so far. Quinn knew a lot of the people around here, and they would often come up to her and have little conversations. It was all a bit of a rush, really. Rachel wasn't used to being around so many _cool _people. She definitely felt out of place, but Quinn would always integrate Rachel into whatever she was talking about, and was always sure to introduce her. Everyone was very pleasant.

The day so far had consisted of extremely random conversation. It was just about both girls trying to get as much information out of each other as they can, and Rachel couldn't exactly remember if it was always this rushed when making friends, but it was for them. Answers only led to more questions, and in Quinn's case, it led to her finding ways to avoid all the questions with more questions. Rachel could let her have that for now. Besides, she'd find out little things here and there, like what kind of coffee Quinn likes, or the fact that Quinn actually enjoys video games.

Rachel wasn't sure if she could get into that though. Too much hand-eye coordination.

"Barbra? Really?"

"Why is that such a surprise? She's an amazing idol, and I would be lucky to have _half_ the career she has."

"Whoa, calm down there, Berry, I totally get it."

"You... do?"

"Totally." Quinn nodded. "Do you own all her records?"

"Yes."

"_All_ of them?"

"Yes, all of them."

Quinn smiled. "Dedicated, huh."

"Completely." Rachel followed her into the alternative music aisle.

Rachel took a look around, and didn't really recognize any of the artists except the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Blondie. She really needed to brush up on her music.

"You look… nice." Quinn said, perusing through the 'Experimental Music' section.

Rachel was wearing her flower sundress, topped with her turtleneck cardigan, and a small, red winter coat.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"Do you normally get all dressed up like this when you go out?"

"This is 'dressed up'?"

It was true Rachel took a _little_ extra time getting ready when it came to auditions, but it was hardly close to her standards of being 'dressed up'. It took her an extra hour or two, a little make-up, and a brand new, expensive outfit for her to consider herself to be 'dressed up'.

"Well, I'd say so, with all the heads you're turning."

Rachel quickly looked around herself. "People are _looking at me?"_

Quinn laughed. "Don't seem so surprised."

"No- I just- no one really _notices_ me- I mean, and especially so with _you_ here-"

"Ah, come on now, Rach." Quinn smirked. "Don't be ridiculous. You're beautiful."

Rachel immediately felt her cheeks redden, but wasn't given time to stay embarrassed much longer, much less respond.

"Fabray! Haven't seen you in, like, forever." A man said, rushing over to them. He looked to be around their age, maybe a bit older, had a big scruffy beard, and a ponytail hanging out from the back of his trucker hat. He wore torn jean shorts, no socks, with dress shoes and a tight-fitted plain white t-shirt. Rachel likened him to a modern day Jesus.

"I was here just a few weeks ago, Teddy." Quinn said, and looked over to Rachel. "Theodore, this is Rachel. Rach, this is Theo."

"Pleasure to meet you." Rachel gave a friendly smile.

"Pleasure's all mine, m'lady." He sort of bowed, and grabbed Rachel's hand and planted a soft kiss on it. It was goofy, but Rachel found herself smiling.

"You should be here every. Single. Week." He said, turning to Quinn. "Have you heard of Shabazz Palaces? It's this hip hop group that's led by Butterfly of Digable Planets and their beats are _sick, _dude! Man, and that new Austra track dropped two days ago and I wanted to hear your opinions on it. You need to give me your number or something."

"I did give you my number."

"You know, funny story, that. It's quite possible, that I sorta, _kinda_, lost my phone."

"_Again_? That's the twelfth time!"

"I have the memory of a goldfish, babe. You know that."

"Teddy, you really need to get that checked out. You forget to wear pants sometimes."

"That was one time! When will people let it go?" He said, desperately.

Quinn shook her head. "I've heard of Shabazz Palaces, and the new Austra track; 'Spellwork', right? That's what it's called? But I haven't gotten the chance to listen to it because I'm just addicted to 'The Daily Mail'. I haven't listened to anything but 'Staircase' and that, since they dropped the studio versions."

Theo did a little dance, and threw his hands on his head. Rachel could only guess that meant he was really excited.

"Tell me about it! Radiohead always pulls some shit like this, like, when I first heard 'The Daily Mail', it was like three in the morning, when I decided to look up their website and it was on the front page and I listened and I almost cried like a baby right then and there, cuddled up in my covers." Theo took a deep breath. "They kill me."

Quinn looked over at Rachel, a big smile on her face. "You have no idea what we're talking about, huh?"

"Not a clue." Rachel said, nodding.

Teddy laughed. "Not a big music fan, I take it?"

"No, I'm a huge fan of music. It's practically my life. I like Top 40, but I'm mostly interested in the… classics."

Teddy looked at Quinn.

"Showtunes, musicals; that sort of thing, you know?" Quinn said.

"Ah, well we have exactly what you're looking for right over here, m'lady. Please, step this way."

* * *

><p>Rachel's sides hurt so much from laughing.<p>

It turned out Theo was very, _very_ goofy, in all the right ways. He was an extremely relaxed kind of guy, and said things without really thinking about them, but as opposed to it being a bad thing, like people often said it was, Theo had a certain magic behind it. Rachel was used to being around people who were so guarded, actually, _she_ was extremely guarded, and it was just refreshing to be around someone so raw. Quinn and him would just bounce off each other with witty comments and jokes. They seemed so close with each other.

He kind of reminded her of Puck, in the way that he was very sweet without being too clichéd about it.

They were all in stitches over dinner before their food even arrived.

The walls were made of brick at this place, Rachel couldn't remember the name, and there were dim Christmas lights hanging above them. The building itself looked really old, and the owner of the place said his great-grandfather built it with his very hands. It was cozy, and they played music like Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett over the radio.

"So, babe, you still haven't told me how you met little miss superstar over here?" Theo said, taking another sip from his martini.

Theo was thoroughly convinced that Rachel was going to be in the next hit Broadway play, after he forced her to sing at the record store, and much to her embarrassment, everyone stopped what they were doing to applaud. He just said he was more than happy he got to meet her before she made it big.

Also, he wanted them to all go out to karaoke sometime soon.

"Just yesterday, actually." Quinn said, leaning forward. "At the café."

"Really? You two act like you've known each other forever." He chuckled. "I hope you'll be coming around the record shop more often, then. It's good to have someone around who understands why I openly weeped when I first heard 'Feeling Good', and don't go around" He directed his gaze to Quinn. "_makin' fun of me_."

"I never made fun of you, Teddy."

"You tell everyone that I cried to that song; how the hell am I gonna get a girlfriend with you around?"

"Girls like sensitive guys." Quinn shrugged.

"Sure they do." He said, stretching. "I gotta take a leak." He stood up. "Don't eat the desert without me. Don't give me that innocent look. You eat pastries like you just got off a deserted island and haven't eaten for months."

They watched Theo try to make his way to the bathroom before getting distracted, as he proceeded to talk up some girl he was trying to get passed.

"Modern day Casanova." Quinn said, smiling. "Have you fallen for him yet?"

"Head over heels, I'm afraid." Rachel joked.

Quinn laughed at that.

It was already five by now, and she knew she had to get going, but she couldn't help having to fight the feeling that she wanted to stay. What was one audition, anyway? Especially since she was about ninety percent sure she wasn't going to get it. Why end a fabulous day with disappointment?

"So, are you enjoying yourself? I didn't really plan to take Teddy along, but he grows on you."

"No, it's fine, really. I… like him. He has a certain charm to him."

"Yeah, he's an ass." Quinn nodded. "Impossible not to love"

"How long have you known him?"

"Since I moved to New York, about a year or two ago. He's been working at the record store since forever. He… he's really sweet, you know?"

Rachel nodded in agreement. "I don't mean to sound intrusive, but you two really seem to connect well. Are you- or rather, _have_ you dated?"

"What? God, no, ew, gross. Jesus Christ, that's disgusting. If he was here right now, he'd probably throw up. I think _I'm _about to throw up."

"S-sorry. I had n-no clue you were so against the idea-"

"No, it's…" Quinn shook. "It's just gross. You're not the first person to say that, though, and most certainly not the last. I'm sure if you weren't here, most of the people in this place would think we're on a date."

"You two certainly act like it."

"What? We do?"

"He calls you 'babe'."

"Oh, right. I don't notice, really. He calls everyone 'babe'. It makes a lot of guys at his job uncomfortable." Quinn laughed. "It's a term of endearment to him. He'll start calling you babe soon enough, just you wait."

Rachel glanced at her phone. 5:32 PM. She _really _had to get going if she was gonna have any chance of making it.

But she couldn't decide if she wanted to leave.

_What was one audition?_ No, that's a stupid thing to think. One audition could be everything. It could be everything, or it could be nothing. But did she really have a shot? They weren't looking for anything in particular. Just a singer. Just an actor. A bit of a dancer. Nothing specific when it came to looks.

She had a shot, just like all the others.

"You keep looking at your phone." Quinn said. "Expecting something?"

"Er, yes. I suppose I am." Rachel sighed. "You're very perceptive."

"So you keep saying, but I'm just paying attention." Quinn shrugged. "So, what is it?"

"I just have… well, I have an audition tonight. At- at seven."

"What? Why didn't you say anything? _Why are you even here_?"

"I didn't want to turn you down, and to be completely honest, I really needed this. I've had… so much fun today, even though half of the time I had no idea what you were saying, or what any of your friends were saying. Theodore is really, really sweet, and-and so are you, and I haven't had any friends since High School, and although we just walked around Bedford and went into stores I had no idea existed- I know it sounds weird, but it felt _right_, like- like somehow this is what I should have been doing since I arrived here."

Quinn just shook her head. "I get it, but we could've done this some other time. You said you haven't gotten a part, yet, and we both know the only way to do that here is to go to every single audition possible. This could've been the one."

"I know, but, if-if I were to give an audition up for something, this day was completely worth it."

Quinn sighed, but it didn't sound like an 'this is annoying' type of sigh, it was more of a 'I think I understand, but I don't like it' kind of sigh.

Rachel watched Quinn. She shouldn't have said anything about the audition. That was a mistake. Now Quinn feels like she's responsible for you missing your audition, _excellent job, Rachel._ You're so good at making people feel like they're _so great_. You're amazing at throwing _guilt-trips at everyone. Wonderful job. Really._

Seriously, who would want to be friends with someone like that? Someone that doesn't go to something that could possibly change their lives in all the right ways, and then tells them that they're the reason they didn't go. _'Oh, no it's fine, Quinn. I know all I talk about is how much I want to hit it big on Broadway, and how I've wanted it for my entire life, it's just that YOU asked me to go to Brooklyn and I couldn't say no. It's NO BIG DEAL. REALLY.'_

No matter how much Rachel tried to make it sound like she was okay with it, she could tell Quinn felt like it was her fault.

So, you single-handedly lost a friend and an audition tonight. Only you, Rachel Barbra Berry. Only. You.

"Okay." Quinn stood up.

"What?" Rachel stood up, confused.

Theo returned, a big grin on his face. "I got a pretty lady's number-_ whoa_, uh, why is everyone standing?"

"I have to get Rachel to her audition. She's gonna be late." Quinn said.

"No, no-Quinn, it's-" Rachel tried.

"Oh, in that case, get the hell outta here. I heard the 'L' line is under construction as of six tonight, so you're gonna have a shitty time getting there. I'll pay for dinner. After all, it's what a gentleman, does, is it not?"

"Thanks, Theo." Quinn said, quickly hugging him.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get all soft on me, Fabray." He turned to Rachel. . "Break a leg, babe. You got this."

"Thank you, Theodore."

"_Please_ don't call me that. That's my father's name, and I am nothing like-"

"Not the time, Teddy." Quinn said.

"Oh, right. Go get 'em, tiger!" He called after them.

* * *

><p>Rachel normally was nervous before auditions, but this time took the cake. Not only had she been fifty, yes, <em>fifty<em> minutes late, but the casting directors were on their way out the door when she arrived. Rachel didn't know how but Quinn somehow managed to have them stick around for just enough time for her to get ready and give a go at the audition.

Quinn was like and angel, really. She had to buy her a bouquet of flowers as a thank you, or something. Maybe chocolates. Did Quinn like chocolate? She didn't know yet. Put that down on the things to ask her.

"You have five minutes to get ready. Make it quick." The elderly woman who sat in the middle of the front row ordered.

She did her ritual pep-talk into the mirror backstage, before closing her eyes. She wasn't sure what it was called when she did this; praying, meditating; whatever. She just got lost in her mind, wiping it clean of anything before now, so when she walked out there, the only thing that existed was that very moment. The moment she was on stage, giving it her all to three complete strangers. A moment she wouldn't be able to get back after it was done, so when she left this building, she left her very essence with those people. They were going to remember her, or not remember her based on what happened out there.

Her whole world could change based on what happened out there.

She opened her eyes.

She was ready.

* * *

><p>Quinn decided to wait outside. Rachel didn't ask her to, but Quinn did. She needed a larger area to pace in.<p>

It was a Friday night, so naturally, the sidewalks bustled with people, some of whom just stood around and smoked cigarettes, but most of them trying to either get home to the family, or go out on the town. Quinn didn't very much like people. She had to deal with her fair share of them in her lifetime, and for the most part, about ninety percent of them were assholes. There wasn't any denying that. Maybe it was just New York, maybe it wasn't.

She could be friendly when she wanted to, but she rarely did, so she often came off as stand-offish. The fact that _Santana Lopez _was her best friend, also said something about how she chose people.

So she surprised herself when she went up to Rachel Berry yesterday. She surprised herself when she found it easy to talk to her. She was completely surprised when she didn't have to fake for the sake of being polite.

Not to mention she was now pacing like a lunatic, waiting to see if some girl she had just met got the part in a Broadway play, like she had known her all her life.

It was all very weird to her.

She didn't know what compelled her to talk to her. Maybe it was the playbills- no, who was she kidding. She knew tons of people who loved Broadway.

Quinn couldn't put her finger on it. She just remembered walking into the café, and a small brunette sitting in _her_ seat near the window. She passed her to make her order at the counter. She walked _right by _her, almost tripping up on the seat at her table. The brunette didn't even look up, didn't even acknowledge her. Quinn was used to attention when she entered a room. All eyes would fix on her, but not this girl. She was reading something, and as she found out, that something being her final paper, when Quinn passed her again to get some sugar packets at the stand.

Quinn remembered sitting at the table in the middle of store, beside the brunette's table. She wanted to talk to her. She didn't know why, she just _did._

She tried to ignore it at first. New people come into the café all the time, none of them had stolen her seat before, but who cares. It was just a seat.

But Quinn couldn't just read her book. She kept looking up at her, she kept feeling this _ridiculous _pull towards her. It became all too much.

She got up.

But she couldn't do it. It was stupid, she was just imagining something that wasn't there, and she was just being _silly. _Completely silly. Instead, she made her way to the garbage and threw out her cup of coffee.

She was going to leave, but she couldn't stop herself from taking one last glance.

The brunette sat there, face almost completely hid behind her bangs. Quinn could only see her lips, which were mouthing the words she was reading. Quinn was stuck. She watched as the girl pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, as she turned the page, and Quinn _just_ couldn't take it anymore. She stepped right over to her table. She stood there for a moment or so. The brunette didn't seem to notice. She had cause to back away, to just turn back. Whatever compelled her to rush toward her was gone now. She could leave.

But instead, she spoke, _'May I?'_

And the girl looked up, big _beautiful_ brown eyes met hers, and it was the first time in years that Quinn almost lost her ability to speak.

'_Take the chair?'_ the brunette said after a moment. She sounded wonderful. Her diction was interestingly succinct, but Quinn was too busy laughing to really admire it.

And it was easy as that. It had _never_ been easy as that before. Theo even said it himself, Quinn felt awfully comfortable around her. They seemed awfully comfortable around each other.

To be quite honest, Quinn didn't like the feeling one bit.

She shook her head and leaned against the wall. She had to get out of the crowd, because everyone just wouldn't stop pushing, and she was pretty sure she was ready to start punching people in the face. She took out her phone: _8:23 PM._

She sighed, pressed '2' and then the 'Call' button.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP." She heard yelling, and the phone being swung around. "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR TWO SECONDS."

"Uh, hello?" Quinn asked.

The voice immediately changed to a much softer tone. "Mm, yes? Can I help you?"

"It's me."

"Q? Oh, hey, girl. What's up? Ugh, wait hold on a sec- I'M ON THE GODDAMN PHONE YOU STUPID LITTLE-"

"San!"

"What?"

"I need Teddy's number."

"He lost his phone, so I don't have the new one. I don't even know if he _got _the new one, yet. He said he would… Uhh, Britt might have it but she's not- DON'T YOU DARE! DON'T YOU DARE, I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING, I DON'T CARE IF BRITTS WANTS YOU, I WILL THROW YOU OUT THIS WINDOW RIGHT NOW- uh, she's not here right now."

"Who the hell are you yelling at?"

"Britt got a kitten, or should I say THE SPAWN OF SATAN. He doesn't stop meowing EVER. He's like two weeks old and he just pees everywhere and rips everything. He ripped my red dress, Q! You know the one I use to go out to clubs; he's a little bastard, and she left me alone with him. At this very moment, I can see myself, very vividly, throwing him out the window, and laughing as his body spirals down, in slow motion, and _I _will feel every_ bit_ of _satisfaction_."

"You live on the eighteenth floor."

"Yes. Exactly."

Quinn sighed.

"What's ups with you, girl? You haven't called me in like a week. That's, like, _forever_ by our standards." Santana sighed. "Okay, just be honest, are you breaking up with me? Is it because I give Brittany more attention? 'Cause she's my girlfriend, and I love her, and you're just, you know, my girl _on the side._"

Quinn smiled. "I'm hurt, Santana. How could you?"

"I can't be everything for everyone all the time. I gotta keep on big pimpin'." Santana joked. "But seriously, Q, what's up? I miss your face. Britts does, too."

"It's just been a week since we saw each other. No big deal…"

"Okay, I don't know if you knows this, but we've seen each other every day for the past sixteen years. We are attached at the hip. Unholy trinity. Remember?"

"That's because we basically lived together, look, I… I've just been really busy."

"Yeah? Busy doing what? Hanging out with those homeless people?"

"They aren't homeless."

"Coulda fooled me- GET OUT FROM UNDER THERE, YOU LITTLE- Ugh. Well, are you busy tonight? Britts should be back in an hour, and we can all go out. You should come over now. I'm thinking some 'Chocolate by the Bald Man' or whatever that place is called- you know that place that's like Willy Wonka's factory on 14 St? And then we can go to 'Forbidden Planet' so you and Britts can get your geek on, since we're already there."

"No, I can't. Not tonight. It's already late, and I have something to do."

"Like what?"

"Something- look, do you know how I can reach Teddy? Would he be back at the store?"

"Nope. Shift's over at seven thirty… and what's the rush? Don't you like talking to me better than homeless Jesus?"

"It's an emotional thing, San… unless you want to help me with it?"

"Emotions? _Oh God no._ Uh, I'm sure I can find-oh! Doesn't he go over to his mother's tonight? I have her number. I'll text you it."

"I knew you'd understand."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna go take care of this cat now."

"Don't hurt him."

"Whatever."

Quinn waited, as patiently as she could for the text. Rachel had been in there for about twenty minutes or so by now, and Quinn wasn't sure how long auditions were normally supposed to take, but she was sure she was fine. She was sure, but it didn't stop her from having a minor panic attack.

The second Quinn saw the number flash on her phone's display she pressed 'Call'. It rung a few times before-

"I got it, Ma- what? No, no, ma- NO. No, it isn't the 'internet'. It's the phone. I got it. THE PHONE, MA. Mom. Mom. Ma, The internet doesn't ring. Wait, since when you have a computer? Who? Why would he give you a computer? You don't know how to use a computer. _Jesus Christ on a biscuit_…" Theo took a breath. "Theo here."

"What is with everyone yelling over the phone tonight?"

"Who this be?"

Quinn sighed. "It's me, Quinn."

"Ah, hey! Good to hear your voice, after I've been listening to my mother's _for over an hour now_. She thinks the internet was calling. It's kind of adorable." She could hear he was smiling. "Ma, it's just Quinn. Yeah? My mom says hi."

"Tell her I say hi, too."

"Quinn says hi, ma. What? No, no, we're not- ma, I am _not _telling her that. No. Because that's gross, ma. Ugh, Quinn?"

"Hm?"

"She wants to know if we're getting married."

"Oh yeah, tell her in the spring because I've always wanted a spring wedding."

"Shut your face, Fabray. Ma, she said- ah, screw it. I'm not a goddamn messenger. So, how's our little star's thingy majig comin' along?"

"No idea. She's in there now. I'm waiting outside."

"Nervous, babe?"

"I suppose."

"You sure sound it. Don't worry, our girl got this."

"You… seem to really like her, Teddy."

"Well, 'course I do. She's genuine, and that's hard to find nowadays. She isn't anything like us, but I think that's why I like her. Don't you?"

"…yeah, I guess."

"You should def' bring her around more so than you bring San." Teddy said. "She calls me a hobo all the time."

"It's how she shows affection."

"Yeah. Right. But not Rachel, you know. Rachel's nice. I like her."

"So, you gonna put the moves on her? Sounds like you have a crush."

"Nah, you know, she's not my type."

"You don't have a type."

"Are you trying to set me up, Fabray?"

"Maybe I am."

"You little liar." Teddy laughed. "You don't want me to date her."

"And why is that?"

"You tell me."

"You can date who you like, Teds. If you like her, I say go for it."

"Well, now that you've approved I guess it's a-okay I make my move huh?"

"Yeah. I guess it is."

"Aw, come on, chin up, Fabray. You're actin' all jittery. Loosen up. It's like you'll be devastated if your little girlfriend doesn't get this part."

"No I'm not, I'm just nervous for her, I mean you heard her sing, right? She deserves a part on stage, even a small one. And to think she was gonna miss it because she wanted to- wait, you called her my _what?_"

"Took you long enough to notice."

"You ass."

"Look, babe, worrying doesn't change the outcome of anything. What happens, happens, and yeah, she's talented as hell, but getting a gig in New York is balls. Like they say, if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere, and she definitely can make it here. Have a little faith, yeah?"

Quinn smiled. "Now I know why I keep you around, Teddy."

"I thought it was because of my good looks."

"That too."

"Well, I gotta go, babe. My mom is yelling something about amoebas. I don't know what she goes on about half the time, but it's hilarious. Will I be seeing you tomorrow at the shop?"

"Sure."

"Bringing your girl?"

"I mean, if she wants- and she's not my-"

"Great. See you then."

* * *

><p>She absolutely <em>hated<em> when that happened. The judges were stoic throughout her whole performance, yet, they didn't say one negative thing about it. They said they 'loved' it even. Now, Rachel couldn't be sure if it was because they were just being polite and they didn't want anything to do with her, or because they didn't want her to know she got the part immediately. Mr. Kahler was a casting director once, and he said they would wait weeks, even if they had decided the very day the person auditioned, because they don't want to seem desperate. If they make it seem like whoever it is they choose is the only choice, then it might go to their head, and think they can do what they want because the show depends on them.

It seems awfully selfish, but Rachel could believe it. A lot of people she saw in class had that sort of 'holier-than-thou' attitude.

Rachel exited the theatre to find Quinn pacing a hole in the ground.

"Well?"

"Well, now we wait."

Quinn nodded. "Did they give anything away? Did they look like they liked it?"

"It's hard to say." Rachel said. "And thanks, again, you know. For coming along with me."

"Yeah, no problem. Anytime. Although, you should warn me next time, because everyone out here thinks I'm insane for pacing all over the place."

Rachel smiled. "You're really kind, Quinn."

"I try to be." Quinn said, quietly. "So, this is where we part ways. I gave Teddy your number. I hope you don't mind."

"No, it's fine."

"Just know he likes to text random facts throughout the day. Most of them are about space or music."

"That... should be interesting."

"Do you want me to walk you, or…?"

"No, you've done quite enough. I'll be fine."

"Sure?"

"Sure." Rachel said, nodding happily.

"Okay. Text you later."

Rachel watched Quinn disappear into the busy New York street, smiling like a goofball.

* * *

><p>So, yes, Willy peed under the table, <em>again<em>, and was tugging on the curtains when she walked in, but she was too happy to care. She had an amazing day, and made two friends whom she _knew_ cared about her. Who would have guessed people could actually be… _nice_? Rachel was used to sacrificing things for others, but no one ever did anything for her. Quinn rushing her to her audition, Teddy being a-okay with staying behind and paying for dinner; it was all a little too surreal for her. Maybe this was how it was for most people, and she had just been handed the short end of the stick. To think she just _met _these people and they were acting better towards her than people she had known for years.

It was a good feeling.

Willy waltzed right over to her, and she gave him an affectionate rub behind his ears. He seemed confused at the action. It was like he knew he was supposed to be reprimanded, yet he wasn't being punished, he was being_ loved._

"You're too smart for your own good, Billy-Willy." She smiled. "But I'm not mad at you. I really don't think I could be mad at anything right now."

Willy trotted away, and disappeared into the bedroom.

"Willy? William Wyler, THAT was NOT a challenge!" She chased after him.

She found him lying in his little bed for once, instead of hers. "Oh. Okay then. Well, be a good boy, I'm gonna take a shower."

* * *

><p>By the time she exited the bathroom, Theo had sent her about three different texts pertaining to space travel and then proceeded to list off the reasons why he decided against being an astronaut.<p>

She was laughing at them, by herself like some kind of maniac. Willy eventually made his way up to her bed to see what the fuss was about. Soon after, he was in his third dream. Rachel couldn't blame him, though. The moment her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

* * *

><p>Rachel woke up to the piercing, annoyingly loud ringing of her house phone. She bought a cheap one from the dollar store and she hadn't had much time to replace it. The neighbors often complained about it. The landlord called her several times, explaining that to her.<p>

She blinked a couple of times to get used to the sunlight seeping through her blinds.

"You awake?"

Rachel rolled over onto her back. "Hmh, yeah, I guess... I s'ppose... I am... my phone is ringing... it's so loud..."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmhmm."

Quinn had called around eleven last night, and actually woke Rachel up, but of course she didn't say that. Rachel couldn't even remember _why_ Quinn called. They covered an insane amount of topics in a short period of time. She only knew that she fell asleep talking to her, and that apparently, Quinn did as well.

"Why is it ringing so loud?" Rachel pulled the phone closer to her ear, hoping Quinn's voice would drown out the ringing. "Stupid ninety-nine cent phone..."

"Um, Rach, I'm pretty sure _I'm_ on the phone."

"No-nuh-uh, no." Rachel yawned.

"Are you _sure_ you're awake?" Quinn asked. The ringing had stopped and the answer machine picked up.

"Yeah, yeah. Up. I'm up. So up. I'm so up right now, it's not possible to be any more up than I am right now."

Quinn laughed. "You sound like you'd be a fun drunk."

"Trying to get me drunk now, hm? You, Quinn Fabray, are a horrible influence. Horrible. Just terrible."

"Well, of course I am. Haven't you heard of me? I'm the skilled conversationalist that finds aspiring broadway actresses and actors and ruin them before they get to hit it big."

"You... are _really_ scary sometimes." Rachel listened as the phone resumed ringing. She sighed. "I should pick this up. Call you later?"

"Yeah, sure. Later."

"Bye, Quinn."

She pressed 'end', and crawled out of bed and dragged her feet all the way to the living room. Willy was waiting by his food bowl, ready to be served. Sometimes that dog acted so entitled she just wanted to make him a throne and have him worshiped throughout the land.

She was pretty much fed up by all the ringing right now, so she rushed to the phone. "Mm, hello?" Rachel answered, rubbing her eyes.

"Yes, hello, is this Rachel Berry?"

"Yes?"

"Wonderful. This is Julia, we met yesterday? At the audition?"

Rachel was suddenly wide awake. "Y-yes, I- I remember." She looked down at Willy, who seemed annoyed that he wasn't being given his breakfast.

"It's concerning that. Are you busy at the moment? I'd like to arrange a meeting."

"Oh, uh, yes. I mean- no, no I'm not busy." Rachel stammered. "I- I can meet you."

"_Us_, actually. There are quite a few people who'd like to meet you. There is a small breakfast place near the Metropolitan Hospital? Are you familiar with it?"

"Yes, of course."

"It's… ten now. Would twelve be enough time for you to m-"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Julia laughed. "Very well, Ms. Berry. We look forward to it."

"M-may I ask what exactly this is about? Have… have I gotten the part?" Rachel shot a nervous glance at Willy, who honestly couldn't be bothered.

"Well…"


	3. Chapter 3

Quinn had her body pressed up against a large box, while the box, itself, was pressed up against the brick wall.

There was really no other way to hold it.

She'd suffer the stares of her new neighbors as they passed her, all but snickering at her humorous position. She wanted to _kill_ Theo. He was supposed to be holding up the other end, but he ran downstairs too quick for her to react, and now she couldn't put the box down any other way than slamming it down, which would break the glass lamp, and various glass cups it held.

A teenage boy, with dirty blonde hair ran up the steps and stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back in laughter and running down the hallway.

She _really_ wanted to_ kill_ Theo.

It was one in the afternoon, and she was almost done moving into her new place. It was nice. It was quiet from what she could gather so far.

It certainly was smaller than her last apartment, and it didn't have a spare bedroom like her last one did, but she didn't mind. It had two bathrooms; one in the hallway leading to the bedroom and one in the bedroom itself. It was similar to a studio apartment, as the kitchen and living room were connected.

If only she could just put this box in there and get it over with.

She felt a body press against her back, and almost hit whoever it was with her elbow before she heard them speak.

"SHE GOT IT! SHE GOT IT, BABE! OUR BABY GOT IT!"

"Teddy- the _box_."

"I DON'T THINK YOU GET IT." Theo whipped around to grab the other end. "SHE GOT IT!"

Quinn looked at him. His face was contorted into some crazy smile she thought was only possible in cartoons.

"RACHEL!" He exclaimed, like it was the answer to all of the universe's questions. And, hey, maybe it was.

"Teddy, what the _hell _are you saying?" She slowly backed into the apartment, careful not to trip over the smaller boxes strewn about the entrance.

"RACHEL. GOT. THE. PART."

Quinn almost dropped her side of the box. "_W-what?"_

They placed it down on the table that had been a pain in the ass to bring up because it didn't fit through three of the four doors they had to go through.

Teddy jumped over it, and took out his phone. He quickly sifted through the pictures on there. Some of them were pictures of flowers, blurry photos of different statues, like the upside down elephant at Union Square, but most was of his mothers wearing weird hats. Something, Quinn doesn't doubt, he put her up to.

"I was getting a slice of pizza-"

"Wait, you _left_ me to get some _lunch_? You _asshole! _How the-_"_

"_Shhh_, that's not important." He enlarged a somewhat blurry picture of a poster. "Look! Look, it says _'Rachel Berry_', right there."

Quinn leaned into the phone, squinting her eyes. "I mean, it looks like it…" Quinn grabbed the phone t get a closer look. "Mike Chang? Who's Mike Chang?"

"No friggin' clue, but who cares? Babe, I saw the poster, and I _flipped!_ I was doin' cartwheels down the street. You see, apparently," Theo snatched back his phone, and put it in his back pocket. "After a quick google search on the play, and reading up on some Broadway forums, they moved the release date up, because the sponsors were threatening to pull out if they didn't get it done. These posters are just to get the word out, they're not the promotional ones yet, it's sorta like, a teaser. Our girl's been MIA since last night, I'm pretty sure they're getting her all prepped up! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?"

"I-I don't know what to say."

"Say 'fuck yeah!' She did it! I feel so proud, like, my daughter just got into Harvard or something." Theo smiled. "I think I'm gonna cry."

"We- we should call her or something. No, we should wait, right? She's busy. What time do you think we should call her?"

"Take a breath, babe. She'll tell us when she's good and ready." Theo said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Now, time for that pizza."

"But there's still like two boxes-"

"You can handle it! You've been working out! You got some guns on you, girl! Love you!"

"TEDDY!"

* * *

><p>Rachel had a good, <em>long<em> cry, while she walked the extremely long walk from the subway station to her house. She was sure people were staring, but she was just so _happy_, she couldn't stand it.

It all felt surreal, like a dream. Every step she took, she knew she was getting closer to home, but it didn't feel that way. The air she was breathing, the wind in her hair, the cold on her fingertips; she could _feel_ it but it didn't _feel_ real.

People and sounds were fading in and out. She was stuck in her own little world.

She rushed out of her house, after screaming for a good five minutes in her kitchen. She met some of the cast members, the director and the choreographer at the breakfast date. Everyone was really laid back. It honestly didn't feel like a business meeting.

More than that, though, everyone was gushing about her. They kept saying how talented she was, and how lucky they were to find her. She would have fainted. Or maybe she did, she really didn't know.

She was in shock for most of the time there; she actually couldn't remember anyone's names right now. That was definitely going to be embarrassing when she had to meet them for rehearsals on Monday.

She was excited, no, excited wasn't the right word. She was over the moon. No, not even. She was in a completely different galaxy and dimension all together.

She couldn't wait to get home and call her dads. They're gonna be so proud of me, Rachel thought, smiling from ear to ear. _I did it! I finally did it!_

* * *

><p>"This place looks like shit." Santana said, putting her feet up on an unopened box. "Couldn't you have used daddy's money to get a condo or something?"<p>

"I already told you," Quinn said, removing the box from under her, causing Santana to dip forward. "I'm not asking for his help, anymore."

"Whatever. Look, I came all the way down here so I could drag you out to eat. What do you say?"

"I'm… busy."

"No." Santana stood up. "You're not." She sighed, annoyed. "Are you mad at me or something? You're avoiding me. I know it."

"I'm not avoiding you."

"_Yes_, you _are!_ I had to threaten Teddy to tell me where your new place is. You didn't tell me where you were moving to. Why is that?"

"I was gonna tell you-"

"Q, girl, what is going on with you? You're pushing me away. You don't push _me_ away. I'm _Santana_." Santana took a few steps toward her. "Your _friend_, Santana. Your bestest friend in the whole word who puts up with your bullshit, Santana."

"I've just needed some time alone."

"Don't think 'cause you moved out means we're not gonna see each other. You can't get rid of me, Q."

Quinn smiled. "Don't I know it. I've tried."

Santana sucked her teeth. "Alright." She opened her arms. "Come. Hugs."

"Hugs? Wait, doesn't your skin normally melt at human contact-"

Before she could finish, Santana already pulled her into a fierce hug, slowly patting the back of her already unkempt hair.

"I'm not letting go until you hug back, bitch." Santana murmured against her ear.

Quinn sighed and gave in, wrapping her arms around the other girl's waist, loosely.

"Remember; friends for life. Forever. I'm always here for you." Santana whispered.

"I know."

"So let me be here for you."

"I try, San."

Santana let go. "I know." She clapped her hands together. "So, now that the emotional bullshit is out of the way, let's get something to eat. Preferably something disgustingly greasy."

"Okay, okay." Quinn nodded, heading out the door. "But I get to choose where."

"Of course." Santana followed. "Oh, and by the way, Teddy told me all about this Rachel girl, so don't think I don't know about her. You've been keeping secrets, Fabray. Not cool."

"Man, Teddy is the worst." Quinn muttered to herself. "Why do I even keep him around?"

"I ask myself why you keep him around every day, hell if I know. So…" Santana slung her arm around Quinn. "Is she hot?"

* * *

><p>Rachel called her Dad first. He was in the middle of a business meeting, but he excused himself to the bathroom so he could flail with his daughter. He said that he really wanted to hear Daddy's reaction, but the meeting was about the subsequent future of the company so he had to head back immediately.<p>

But he said he was proud and the he loved her a billion times. Rachel's cheeks hurt so much from smiling.

When she called her Daddy and told him, he screamed, but only because his apron caught fire. He was in the middle of cooking dinner.

Then, he cried, which made Rachel cry too.

Willy watched on, confused out of his little mind, occasionally deciding to stop watching the crazy and run into the bathroom. It was his favorite room for some reason. Rachel guessed he liked to roll around on the carpet in there. Even she'd admit it was insanely soft.

She'd probably roll around in it, too, if she was a dog.

"I remember when you were little, baby girl." Her Daddy said. "All you would talk about was Broadway… and look at you. Just look at you." He choked on a sob. "We are so, so, _so_ proud of you. You have no idea."

"Thank you, daddy."

"We're coming over there, first chance we get. Schedule's a little crazy right now, 'cause your dad and I are working opposite shifts, but we'll be there. We're gonna see the whole first week of shows. We'll make banners, too, that say 'Rachel Berry is my daughter!' and hold it up during the play." He paused. "Is that frowned upon in theatre?"

Rachel laughed. "I'm pretty sure it is, yes."

"Well, screw 'em. I'll make a bright neon sign if I have to and drag it all the way to New York." He chuckled. "I love you, baby girl."

"I love you, too, daddy."

He sighed, quietly. "It appears I'll have to get a new box of rice since I just burned this batch."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize, young lady." His tone wasn't harsh, at all. "I'd burn a thousand dinners if it meant you'd get a part, equally, if I could. Now, besides taking your first step to becoming the star you were _obviously_ born to be, what else has happened? We haven't spoken for a while, surely something is going on. How's school?"

"Fine." Rachel nodded. "Nothing has really happened." Rachel said, wandering into her kitchen. "I made a friend- well, _two_ friends."

"Becoming a social butterfly, are we?"

"Not exactly."

"Well… do you like them?"

"Yes! Very much so. It's nice to have friends again."

"Oh, I know. You've been lonely for a while, haven't you?"

"A bit…"

"I'm happy you found somebody. Tell me about them. How'd you meet? At school?"

"No, actually, she- well, she came up to me and talked to me at- at a café."

"Café? You drink coffee regularly now?"

"No. I was just doing some homework."

"Oh. Continue."

"There's really nothing to say. We talked a bit, she's really nice, and we exchanged numbers, and we… hung out…" Rachel paused. "Now that I think about it, she's actually the reason I got this part."

"Is she, now? Well, give me her address so I can send flowers and chocolates and money and a dog, and my collection of Tina Turner's albums from _Tina Turns the Country On_ up until _Twenty Four Seven_, including _Tina Live in Europe_ and _The Platinum Collection_."

Rachel smiled at that. If her daddy was willing to give up his Tina Turner Collection, then she knew he was grateful. "And her friend, Teddy-" She continued. "He's the other person. He's really sweet, and she's known him for a while. They're both wonderful, daddy."

"I'm glad. I always hear that people in New York are rude. Not true, then?"

"Some people are rude." Rachel said. "But not them."

"So, were they excited when they heard the news?"

"I… haven't told them yet."

"What in the world are you waiting for? Go, go, go!" He said, and she could hear him smiling his big goofy grin. "Call me later, sweetie."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you bunches."

* * *

><p>"So do you want to have sex with her or not?"<p>

Quinn rolled her eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time. They decided to go for pizza, since everywhere Quinn wanted to go, Santana had already eaten from this week. There was a little pizza shop in the middle of a string of apartment complexes four blocks from Quinn's new place. If all else failed, New York pizza could never go wrong.

Quinn was sure she would never get tired of it.

"Can you blame me for asking?" Santana said. She had finished her slice long ago and was eating her side cannoli. "I'm your friend. I should know if there's anyone you're crushing on."

"I'm not crushing on anybody."

"But you want to have sex with her?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't _not_ say it."

"Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?" She asked, her mouth full. "Still didn't answer the question, by the way."

Quinn felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She had to think of a plan, quick. She knew Santana, she just _knew_ her. She couldn't look at her phone now. Quinn would never head the end of it from Santana. She felt it vibrate again. What if it was Rachel? It probably was Rachel.

She _had_ to check it. But… how?

"I gotta take a piss." Santana said, getting up.

Quinn did her best not to look relieved. She watched Santana disappear pass the order counter, into the back room. The guy that made the pizzas saw her staring and gave a small smile. She returned the favor, of course.

She took out her phone, and quickly swiped it and read the first text; _Hi._

Quinn smiled. Yup, it was Rachel. The second read: _Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Mind if I call you?_

Quinn was already pressing the call button by the time she finished reading the text.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Hey."

"… hi." Quinn said again.

Rachel giggled. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, no, not at all. Just out for some lunch. Been moving boxes all day. What about you? How are you?"

"I'm great. Wonderful. Fantastic."

"That's great. Wonderful. Amazing."

"Are you mocking me, Quinn Fabray?"

"_Me_? Mocking _you_? _Never_, Rachel Berry."

"Fine." Rachel huffed. "Maybe I won't tell you the big news I got today."

"Big news, huh?" Quinn was willing to play along. "What big news?"

"Well, nothing really, except…" Rachel took a deep breath. "_I got the part_. I got the part I auditioned for yesterday!"

"I know…" Quinn said, calmly. She didn't want to freak out or anything. It wasn't _that _big a deal. She got a part on a Broadway play… pfft, big whoop. Not that impressive. Not to mention, she had just met Rachel only two days ago. She barely knew her. No need to get excited for someone you barely knew.

Right?

She had to admit the two days felt like a rollercoaster ride, though; turning in all directions, snapping up and down; she was getting whiplash. She hadn't really… felt anything like it.

"You… know? Well, that's… anti-climatic." Rachel sounded disappointed. "How?"

"Teddy saw the poster!" Quinn couldn't contain her excitement anymore. She felt excited, why, she didn't know, but she was. There was no need to hide it, really. So what if she'd only known her for two days! Screw it! "Congrats, Rach! You have no clue how happy I am for you. You deserve it."

"Quinn, you have absolutely no idea what I was thinking when they called me, I think I fainted, to be quite honest. I screamed so loud my neighbor came to see if I had been brutally murdered and I'm pretty sure he's trying to avoid me now because when he knocked on my door I was crying and I hugged him for about ten minutes so he must think I'm a psycho."

Quinn was smiling, ear to ear. "I'm sure he'll change his mind when he sees your name in lights. Have you told anybody else?"

"Just you… and my dads. That's pretty much it."

"Dads?"

"Oh, er, yes. I have two dads. Gay dads."

"Oh. Wow. Didn't know that…"

"Is- is… that a problem?"

"God, no." Quinn said. "Of course not."

"I know some people are a bit turned off by things like that. I would understand. Wouldn't like it, but I would understand."

"You really have a lot to learn about me, Rachel."

"Is that so? Well, I can't wait to get started."

Quinn smiled at that. "Speaking of getting started, when are rehearsals?"

"First thing Monday. Before my classes." Rachel sighed. "It's a tight fit. I won't have a lot of free time. Everyone is rushing to get this done."

"I see. Well, you like the work, don't you? Keeps you busy, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes, you're absolutely right. It's what I've always wanted. And it's all thanks to you."

"No, no, don't try to put this on me. It's _your_ talent that got your through. And I'm pretty sure that smile of yours helped a bit, too."

"My smile?"

"Who are you flirting with?" Santana practically came out of the woodworks, and it almost gave Quinn a heart attack.

Quinn covered the phone with her hand. "I'm _not_ flirting." She whisper-screamed.

"I grew up with you, Q. I _know_ your flirting voice."

"Hello?"

"Uh, yeah." Quinn said, eyeing Santana as she sat down across from her. "You know… your smile."

"My smile is…?"

"It's, er," Quinn swallowed hard. "Impressive."

Rachel laughed. "I have an _impressive_ smile. Hm. Well, I've certainly never heard that before. Thank you, Quinn."

"Is it that Berry girl? Tell her to come over, if she's not busy. I wanna meet her." Santana said.

"Are you busy?" Rachel asked, as though she had super-hearing.

"Er, no." Quinn said.

"You sound kind of busy. It's okay. I can call you back?"

"No! No, actually- do you… do you wanna meet me? We can celebrate. Unless you're doing something."

"No, I'm not doing anything. Sure, I'll meet you. Where to?"

* * *

><p>It took all of Quinn's persuasive skills to convince Santana to leave. She promised her she could meet her some other time, actually, she <em>swore<em> on her Radiohead Vinyl collection, and gave Santana permission to burn it if she was lying.

So, Quinn was being crazy serious.

Quinn just couldn't let them meet now, especially with Santana being suspicious of her intentions. She needed more time to talk her out of any ideas of her being interested in Rachel, and then bring them together. Because if Santana had any slither of doubt, it would be all she would talk about, and Quinn couldn't really have that.

Also, Quinn didn't exactly want to ruin Rachel's big news with meeting her. Santana didn't care if you were the Queen of England; she'd be harsh and unwavering. Quinn didn't want that for Rachel. Not yet, anyway.

Not ever, to be quite honest.

Quinn convinced San to head home to Brittany, saying she'll invite them both to her place after everything's sorted. She figured she could invite Rachel and Teddy, as well, and whoever it is Rachel made friends with from the show, because let's face it, she _would_ be making friends now. Tons of them. Which is good, Quinn thought. Rachel seemed awfully lonely. She didn't deserve that.

Quinn had a little skip to her step, as she walked by Union Square, hands in her pocket. She couldn't tell if it was because she was excited, or if she was able to successfully talk Santana out of something. The latter was impossible most days, so it was something to be proud of, for sure.

It was a bit chilly, and she was only wearing an old pullover sweater, that actually was ripped at the bottom, so she had to tuck it into her cuffed khaki pants. She passed Teddy's favorite sculpture, eyeing it as she went along. He had a thing for elephants. Even more so if they were upside down.

Sometimes it hit her how _weird_ Teddy could be.

She held the door open for a woman carrying too many things at once, with a smile and a polite nod. Quinn thought she heard a 'thank you', but she wasn't too sure.

It had been a while since she went to Starbucks. Most of her coffee time was spent in that café, or another little random café she'd pass by. There were hundreds of them in the city, dare she say thousands. Starbucks was expensive, and now that she was living off of her own money, that was definitely something she'd need to avoid.

It didn't take long before she saw Rachel standing, in a plaid, red coat, on her tipp- toes, trying to peek over the crowd. Quinn smirked.

"Want me to put you up on my shoulders?"

Rachel turned, startled, but smiled when she saw her. "You're not gonna stop making fun of my height, are you?"

"It's the only thing I can make fun of." Quinn shrugged.

"Oh, come on. There are other things." Rachel said. "My personality, the way I ramble, my clothes…" She thought for a moment. "My nose."

"I like all those other things."

"Oh." Rachel nodded, curtly, and cleared her throat. "Really?"

"If I didn't like your personality, I wouldn't be standing here. I like when you ramble, because I don't really like talking very much, and everything you say is actually interesting, compared to most people. And yes, maybe we can work on your clothes a bit, but hey, if it's you, it's you." Quinn smiled. "And your nose is you, too. So… I like it.

"Okay, so," Rachel began. "I want to hug you, but, essentially, we only met two days ago, and I don't know if physical contact is okay at this point in the relationship."

"This point in the relationship?" Quinn held in a laugh. "I see." She said. "Well, warranted, it feels like two _weeks_ not two days."

"This is true."

"So, I suppose, two weeks time is an ample amount for consented physical contact."

"Consented?"

"Yes. Only if I give you permission."

"Quite understandable." Rachel said, smiling. "I'm glad we've reached an agreement." She paused. "So… was that consent?"

"UH, Turkish? Spiced Turkish Coffee?" The man at the counter yelled. Rachel snapped up, and excused herself through the crowd. "I didn't even know we made Turkish coffee…" He said as she approached. Quinn dug into her pocket for her phone to check the time. She saw she had three missed calls from her mother. She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her throat.

"Everything alright?" Rachel asked, returning.

Quinn just nodded, and took a deep breath. "So, come on. Tell me all about your part. Are you lead?"

Rachel beamed. "Yes. I'm playing a girl named Abigail…"

* * *

><p>They were sitting in Union Square now. Quinn occasionally looked away from Rachel to see what the skaters were attempting on the rail nearby. She hadn't stopped talking since Quinn asked back at the store, and Quinn didn't mind at all.<p>

"… and then I kill myself." Rachel said, and Quinn's head snapped back to her. "Or… my mother kills herself." Rachel said, squinting her eyes. "I read the script pretty quickly, I'm not sure, but someone kills themselves."

"Well, that…" Quinn said, unsure. "It- it, uh, sounds like _a lot_."

"That's only the end of act two." Rachel took another sip of her coffee. "You won't believe what happens in the last act."

Quinn heard the 'crack' of a skateboard being flipped and she turned just in time to watch one of them land a kickflip.

"Do you… know how?" Rachel asked.

"I used to."

"No way." Rachel turned to look, too. They both watched someone attempt an Ollie, and face planting, while his buddies laughed on.

"That's why I stopped." Quinn looked back at her. "Broke my wrist, once."

"Ouch. I wouldn't have thought you the skateboarding type."

"I mean, I wouldn't call myself a _skateboarder_. I didn't have a board." Quinn shrugged. "I just knew a bunch of people who skated every day, and I'd come along sometimes."

"Couldn't just sit by and watch?"

"Definitely not." Quinn smirked. "I'm not the 'sit by and watch' type of girl. I have to be doing something."

"Any… other activities you were into growing up?"

"Oh, I didn't do it when I was growing up. Just started when I moved here. Teddy and I came here a lot…" Quinn said. "There was this one guy, Tyson-"

"Yes?" a deep voice interrupted.

Both girls spun around to see a six-foot-something, shirtless man, with black cargo shorts, and tattoos almost covering every inch of his dark skin. He had a bright pink and green frohawk, and a piercing on his right eyebrow. Rachel stared, wide-eyed, and a little terrified to be honest.

"Speak of the devil." Quinn stood up.

"You were talking about me? I am _flattered._" He said, smiling. "Absolutely flattered."

"I thought you stopped coming here." Quinn said, surprised.

"Can't resist, sometimes. It's a sick spot." He said, shrugging. "I thought _you _stopped coming here."

"Just meeting a friend." Quinn said, looking over to the completely shocked girl beside her. Quinn let out a chuckle when she saw her expression. "Tyson, this is Rachel."

Rachel stood up now, having to look all the way up at him. She thought Finn was tall, but this was ridiculous. She choked out a nervous, "Hello."

"You're kinda tiny." He said, laughing. "Well, I gotta catch daylight. It's great seeing you, and meeting you." He glanced at Rachel. "But I can tell I'm intruding in something. Just had to say hello. Give me a call sometime, Fab. Maybe we can skate. Tell Teddy he owes me a sandwich and a car door. In that order." Tyson said, backing away. "No time to explain. He'll understand!"

Rachel faced Quinn again, and watched her wave goodbye, with a small smile.

"You have the weirdest friends."

Quinn laughed. "That means you included."

"And oddly enough," Rachel sat back down. "I'm proud of that." Quinn chuckled, and joined her.

After a moment of silence, Rachel spoke. "Not to pry, but… you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"Besides skateboarding, what did you do?"

"Oh, not much, really." Quinn said. "I like being active for the most part. Did a bit of everything. I played volleyball, never in a team. I played soccer… only in a team for three months-"

"What happened?"

"Let's just say I'm not much of a team player." Quinn said, quietly. "And leave it at that."

Rachel was fine with letting it slide… for now. "Anything else?"

"Well I…"

Rachel waited, tapping her finger on her now empty coffee cup.

Quinn shifted uncomfortably. "I was a… cheerleader in high school."

"Oh. Wow… really?"

"What? I can't be a cheerleader? I was _Captain_, I'll have you know."

"No, no, it's just- well, cheerleaders in my school were, um, _mean._"

"So was I." Quinn said, quietly. "It comes with the territory, I guess."

"But you're not anymore. You don't go around slushy-ing people, do you?"

Quinn shot her a confused look. "I'm sorry, I don't go around doing _what?"_

"Slushy-ing? It's when someone throws a slushie in your face...?"

"People did that to you?"

"Um, yeah… I thought it was common practice."

"Common practice? Where the hell did you go to school, Rachel?"

"William Mckinley in Lima, Ohio." Rachel muttered.

"Common practice is wedgies, and jabs at appearances. Throwing people in trashcans, taking people's lunch money- slushies? Jesus…" Quinn trailed off. "How often did they do that?"

"Practically- erm, practically every day."

Quinn shook her head. "You didn't deserve that."

"It was nothing really. You get used to it by the second year."

"Every year?"

"No, no…" Rachel said. "It stopped around the end of senior year."

Quinn couldn't believe it. "Well, how… did it feel?"

"Quite honestly, it feels like being slapped in the face with an iceberg."

"Oh wow…"

"But yeah, the past is the past. I haven't been able to look at a slushie in ages, much less _drink_ one, and I honestly don't think I'll be getting one anytime soon. I also get a bit panicky whenever I pass a 7 eleven."

Quinn smiled. "Yeah? You should have your own 'Lifetime' special; 'My Life after Slushies: The Rachel Berry Story'. I'd watch it."

"You'd be the only one."

"Maybe…" Quinn stood up, suddenly. "Come on, let's get ice cream."

"Ice cream? It's thirty degrees out."

"So?" Quinn said, enthusiastically jogging down the steps, and Rachel couldn't help but follow.

* * *

><p>So Rachel was introduced to Layla, the ice cream lady, who whistled 'My Milkshake' by Kelis, the entire time they waited for their cones. Apparently, she had parked her truck there in the same spot for three years because she had met a, as she said: "handsomely charming man", whom she was hoping to see again.<p>

Rachel thought it was romantic.

She found it oddly fascinating how many people Quinn actually knew around here. Maybe she really had been deprived of the New York lifestyle. Maybe everyone knew everyone all the time, and Rachel had missed out on it being cooped up in her room all day.

"Thanks, Layla." Quinn said, taking her cone. "Keep the change."

"You're a sweetheart, Quinn." Layla said with a smile. She watched Rachel walk up to grab hers. "It was nice meeting you, too, darling."

Rachel returned the smile. "The pleasure was all mine. I really do hope you find him."

"That's kind of you. I really hope I do, too." Layla said, almost sadly.

Rachel turned back to Quinn to see her on the phone, pacing in front of the IMAX Theater. She didn't want to intrude, so she stood near the truck, listening to Layla hum the chorus of 'My Milkshake', while retreating back into the truck.

Rachel watched the people go by. It had to be her favorite past time ever since she moved here. People were so intriguing; how they could all be going somewhere completely different, or even in the same direction, and never once meet each other. How they all have their own lives; they all wake up to someone in the morning, tangled up in their sheets, or maybe they wake up alone. Maybe they make breakfast for someone, or maybe someone makes breakfast for them, or maybe they don't know how to cook at all and they eat at a diner.

"Sorry about that." Quinn said. "It was my mom."

"Oh." Rachel nodded, snapping out of it. "Everything well?"

"Yeah, fine. Just wanted to know how I'm settling into the new place."

"How _are _you settling into the new place?"

"It's great. Feels home-y."

"That's good."

They were standing at the curb, now, waiting for the light to turn red. Quinn glanced down the street, and back at Rachel with a smile. "Come on, I wanna take you to dinner."

"Quinn, you really don't have to." Rachel said, checking her watch. It was nearing seven o'clock. Now _would_ be a perfect time for dinner…

"I know, but I want to." Quinn said, quietly. "I'll invite Teddy, if you'd like."

"It can…" Rachel said, slowly. She really wasn't sure how to word it without it sounding weird. "Can't it just be us…?"

"If that's what you want."

Rachel nodded, shyly.

"Okay." Quinn smiled, as if she knew something Rachel didn't.

It didn't make Rachel the slightest bit uneasy.

* * *

><p>When Quinn said 'dinner', Rachel expected to be indoors in some pretty restaurant she'd never heard of. Quinn Fabray couldn't do the expected, of course.<p>

It was near freezing, Rachel could tell from how she could see their breath, and they were eating _French fries_ from a_ paper cone_. They were sat outside an arcade that was bustling with teenagers, and rowdy young boys alike. The punk music coming from the place was loud, but oddly enough, Rachel didn't mind.

She still wasn't over the fact that 'dinner' meant eating _French fries_ from a _cone, _in front of an_ arcade._ Granted, the place was famous. It was called _'Pommes Frites', _and they made special Belgian fries, topped with any of their select thirty toppings. Rachel actually had seen the place before on TV, on that show where the guy goes to famous restaurants around the world to eat.

Rachel wondered how someone would go about getting a job like that.

After arguing for a good ten minutes at the counter on who was going to pay (Quinn won), they walked down the avenue to find some benches in front of an old arcade.

"How is it?" Quinn asked. She had gotten the plain cheese on her fries. Rachel was feeling a little more adventurous (and not many of the selections were vegan friendly) so she tried the 'War Sauce'.

"Mmmhmm." Rachel couldn't exactly speak because her mouth was full, so she opted for a nod.

Quinn laughed. "Good."

"_Canmmseehuroorace?"_

"Maybe you should finish chewing first, Rachel." Quinn smirked.

Rachel did just that and took a breath before speaking. "Can I see your new place? It's kind of nearby, isn't it?"

"I mean, yeah… if you want. It's still a mess. I haven't unpacked yet."

"I won't mind."

"Sure, then… I guess." Quinn said. "If that's what you want."

"You say that a lot." Rachel noticed. "It should be up to you, shouldn't it? It's _your_ place."

"It's whatever." Quinn shrugged. "Whatever you want." She added, quietly.

Rachel watched as two boys ran out of the arcade, one of them chasing the other for whatever reason. Soon after, a man and a woman, who held onto each other's hands followed. They were smiling at the boys. Rachel could only guess they were the boys' parents. She heard the man say something like they were going home soon, and if they wanted to play some more they would have to get back inside. The boys didn't have to think twice.

The man and the woman looked into each other's eyes, smiles creeping on their lips and Rachel immediately turned away because she knew that that was leading to a kiss, and she really, really didn't like watching people make out for a number of reasons. The most important one being that it's creepy.

"Quinn?"

"Hm?"

"Could we have another talk?"

Quinn looked puzzled, half a French fry hanging out of her mouth. "I thought we were talking?"

"No, I meant, about you."

"Oh." Quinn swallowed. "I don't like it when we do that." Quinn said, frowning a bit.

"I know, but I'd really like to know more about you."

"You… _want_ to know more about me?"

"Yes." Rachel nodded, curtly. "Of course."

Quinn sat forward, and took a bite out of an extremely cheesy fry. She placed the other half of it back in the paper cone. She took a moment, then sighed. "I guess, if you want... go ahead." She muttered.

Rachel didn't know where to begin, so she asked the first thing that came to mind. "When you went to therapy, what exactly was it you were being treated for?"

"Whoa, okay, going straight for the hard-hitting questions, huh?" Quinn looked at her. "Couldn't start somewhere easier, could you? Like what's my favorite color?"

"I don't- I didn't mean to- to sound-"

"Hey," She said, softly. "I'm joking." Quinn smiled, reassuringly. "It's red, by the way." She sat back, and crossed her legs at the knee, before continuing. "Anti-social personality disorder, mostly. But I mean, all we really did was talk about feelings and all that boring crap, so I don't know if that could be called _treatment._"

"So…" Rachel sat up. "You do have a disorder?"

"Technically, yes. But it's not that serious. I'm not gonna turn into a serial killer or anything; I just have problems interacting with people."

"I don't understand. If you have problems interacting with people, how were you able to talk to me? Or any of these other people you're friends with? You have a _lot _of friends."

"'Friend' is not a term I use very lightly, for starters. And I know it says 'anti-social' in its name, but that's not what anti-social personality disorder consists of. Actually, it's quite common that people with this- _my" _She corrected herself. "disorder are charming and easy to talk to because… well…" Quinn paused. It looked as if she was searching for what to say. "Um, we're good at, as my therapist said, '_manipulating_' people."

Quinn looked at Rachel. "But I swear to you, I'm not- I don't do it on purpose, and- and I'm not doing it to you. He used to say that I shouldn't say what people want to hear, but what I want them to know. And that's what I do with you… and Teddy, and Santana, and Brittany; all of my _friends._"

"I see."

"And, you know, I'm- I think I'm getting better." Quinn continued. "I get kind of distant when I'm myself, but that's the real me, and I have been pushing a lot of people away lately, so I think I'm getting better."

"You don't push me away."

"Yeah. Just give me some time, I will." Quinn muttered. "So, can we talk about you again? I'm not nearly as interesting as an up-and-coming Broadway starlet, you know?"

"In a moment," Rachel said, leaning closer to Quinn. She wasn't done just yet. "What else does your, um, _problem_ consist of?"

Quinn sighed. "Uh, well, my therapist said I'm more like to not obey rules, and get into fights, and have a short temper; and yes, all of those are true. But again, I'm not _dangerous_, or anything. Seriously. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Oh no, Quinn, I'm not worried about myself. I just want to make sure I don't do anything that might make you uncomfortable or trigger a reaction or something. I want us to be, you know… cool."

"Cool?" Quinn repeated. "You're such a dork, Berry, but…" Quinn stood up. "I appreciate your dork-ness."

"Thank you…" Rachel said. "I think." She added, unsure.

"Let's go. I'm friggin' freezing." Quinn walked over to the nearby trashcan and threw her cone out. Rachel stood up, and brushed the crumbs off of her coat. Quinn started walking in the direction of the train station, and Rachel had to do a little run to catch up.

"You know, I frequently visited my guidance counselor at school." Rachel said, quietly. She knew what it was like to tell someone something that's difficult to say, and she could only imagine Quinn was feeling very exposed right about now. Like she had said, she wanted Quinn to be as comfortable as possible.

"Oh?"

"Boy problems."

"Hm."

"He was sort of my first love, and you know how that goes…" Rachel trailed off. "Everything seems like life and death."

"A lot of things in high school seem like life and death."

"True." Rachel nodded. "But nothing like love."

"Love always seems life and death, though, doesn't it? No matter how old you get."

"I wouldn't know. I've only had the distinct pleasure of being in love in high school."

"You poor soul, you." Quinn teased, with a chuckle.

* * *

><p>Rachel couldn't tell what it was. Maybe it was because Quinn had really been the only person since high school to give her the light of day, but she just… couldn't get enough. She <em>liked<em> being near Quinn, and talking to Quinn and listening to Quinn; she really liked it. A lot.

But she had to cool it, she knew. Rachel always managed to get obsessed- well, maybe obsessed isn't the right word- _passionate_ about the things that she liked, and it often drove people away. So she was trying to cool it.

Even though she currently had Quinn on speakerphone while Quinn was trying to teach her how to make 'Miso Sesame Winter Squash'.

It was like she couldn't spend more than five minutes without hearing from her.

"Did you grease the baking sheet?"

"Grease?" Rachel asked. "I have to grease the sheet?"

"Haven't you cooked before?"

"… I thought that was only for cookies..." Rachel murmured.

Quinn laughed. "Just… grease the sheet, Rachel."

Rachel had seen Quinn's apartment last night, but couldn't stay long as it was nearing midnight, and Rachel wouldn't ruin her sleeping schedule just yet, especially now that she was going to _need_ the sleep when she started her crazy new schedule.

Quinn had been right; her new place was 'home-y'. She had a fireplace, too, which Rachel thought was the coolest thing.

She'd only spent about half an hour there, helping Quinn unpack various boxes, but, regrettably, she had to head home. Of course, Quinn was her usual chivalrous self, and managed to talk Rachel into letting her pay for a taxi ride home because she "under no circumstances" was going to let Rachel take the train home "at such an ungodly hour".

"Okay, it's greased." Rachel said.

"You tossed the squash?"

"Yes."

"Okay, pour it onto the sheet."

Quinn had made Rachel promise to call once she got home, and that transferred into one of their 'all-night talks', which really wasn't all night, considering they both fell asleep at some point. But they would both wake up and still be on the phone, so it was all night, sort of. By the time she hung up, the first time, her phone counted seven hours of talking. Rachel had called back sometime in the afternoon to ask a mundane question that she, as Quinn had so charmingly put it; "could just google it". And that conversation had turned into how Rachel wished she could cook so she wouldn't have to order out every night, to which Quinn replied that she was an excellent cook, and then of course, Rachel said that even if she was, she probably didn't know any vegan recipes, and Quinn scoffed, determined to prove her wrong.

And there they were.

"Now, the oven is preheated to 425, right? Unless you have a shitty oven, then bring it down to 410, or up to 435 depending on whether it doesn't heat enough or heats too much."

"Yes," Rachel checked her stove. "It's preheated."

"Put it in for forty minutes; flip it over at the twenty mark. Got it?"

Rachel didn't respond, instead she did exactly what Quinn instructed, and bent over to place the sheet into the oven.

"Okay, now take the bowl I told you about earlier, and whisk the molasses, tamari, maple syrup, miso, orange juice, lemon juice, lemon zest, water and the remaining tablespoon of sesame oil."

"Whisking."

"Then add the tofu. Toss it around a bit, so it settles."

"Um, how much am I making here? It seems like a lot for me and my dog."

"You let your dog eat dinner with you?"

"Of course. He normally gets veggie rice and an eggroll from the Chinese."

"Your dog has his own dinner order from the Chinese?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"No reason." Quinn stopped herself. "And you're not making it just for yourself, _I_'_ll_ be having some as well."

"What?"

"I invited myself over. Call it a celebratory dinner before your first rehearsal. Also, you got to see my place, so it's only fair I see yours." She paused. "I hope you don't mind. I want to see how your first attempt goes."

"Oh." Rachel smiled. "No, that's fine." Because really, when would she actually be _disappointed_ in seeing Quinn again.

"Teddy might come, too. He's normally wherever there's free food. Is that cool?"

"Yes, of course. You two are always welcome."

"Cool." Quinn said. "Oh hey… no, not yet. Yeah, sure, hold on. Uh, Rach?"

"Yes?"

"I have to go…"

"But what about the squash?" Rachel almost panicked.

"I'll call you right back- in… thirty minutes, just before the squash is done. Promise."

"Okay. Just- just hurry back."

Rachel waited by watching Funny Girl, for who knows how long. Actually, she knew how long; Twenty minutes and forty six seconds. She had been counting.

She received a text from Quinn about thirty minutes later, with directions on how to finish the squash, and a '_sorry. got caught up. fill you in later?'_

Rachel could only type out a '_sure :)'_

Quinn _was_ coming over, after all. She'd have time to ask her why then.


End file.
